


Secret s̶a̶n̶t̶a̶ Doctor

by Rae_Saxon



Series: TARDIS Advent Calendar [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: Secret Santa had seemed like a great idea to the Doctor when she thought she'd pulled O. Not so much anymore once she realised he's the Master. And as the Master does, he's cheated, too.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: TARDIS Advent Calendar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038354
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	Secret s̶a̶n̶t̶a̶ Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello, this fic is based on this beautiful post > https://alexversenaberrie.tumblr.com/post/636340764772892672/tardis-advent-calendar-secret-santa-doctor-yes < so definitely check that out! I'm so happy I got permission to write this, so heeeere goes! 
> 
> Apparently I'll be posting additionally to my own advent calendar.... for Valc0's advent calendar prompts.... too... But only once in a while! I'm okay. I'm fine. I'm doing great. I live in a writing cave, now. 
> 
> This one's a bit late, but I'll try to do mistletoe on time. :P
> 
> Oh, there's a comic where Ten & Martha meet Thirteen & fam so that's what I'm referring to in this story. Because I needed it and it was convenient. Pretty sure it's set *after* Spyfall, since they don't really know about regeneration then yet, but eh, for my convenience, it's not. :D

In hindsight, the Doctor supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. What had started as a harmless thought by Yaz, who was trying to cheer the group up a little, back in the outback, had quickly snowballed into a fix idea that her fam was completely blown away by.

“Why not,” she'd said, silly, naive Doctor that she had been.

What could happen, she had thought, in a nice fun round of Secret Santa?

But Yaz had looked downright devastated.

“Oh, but we're not enough people. Five isn't an even number, someone won't get a gift, unless we find a sixth person...”

Everyone had exchanged looks, Graham had already looked ready to step out of the game, when O – _O_ , hah! - had had the saving idea.

“We could get your younger self into it,” he had smiled. “The one I've met before? Honestly, he looked like he could use someone dropping by a little gift.”

Hah, and wouldn't _he_ know all about it? The utter bastard had been half of the cause for her devastation back then!

“I don't know. He won't even know anyone but you and...”

“Hey, we met him,” Ryan reminded her. “It's the sad guy with the swishy coat who talked about that girl a lot, isn't he?”

The Doctor felt her throat dry a little.

“Right,” Graham had said after “ _O”_ had nodded, barely suppressing a grin. “I remember him. We could totally do that, Doc!”

“I... Oh, I don't know,” she had sighed - _stupid_ , naive Doctor. “It's technically always a paradox when I meet my old selves and...”

“We don't even have to do that, though,” O had interrupted her gently, his smile not giving away any of his true attentions. “I can just draw for him and text him. I won't even have to look at it, I'll just blindly take a picture and hit send. How's that?”

“Oh...” she had said again, chewing on her lower lip. There was no easy way, was there, to tell her friends that she really didn't particular like any of her older selves? _He_ had known, of course, because he always knew, and had orchestrated it to torment her, even while in disguise. “Fine then. If we absolutely have to.”

He'd run into a side room and come out a few minutes later, with a bowl full of little notes with their names on it and had let them draw. All of them had secretly checked out their sheets, grinned and tucked them away safely.

And the Doctor... Well. When she had drawn O, she had actually been _happy_ about it. Had felt a flush of warmth and joy at the thought of giving him a personal gift, seeing that wide, shy smile of his spreading on his face.

All that was in shambles now, of course, as she stood in a silly Earth store, looking for the absolute worst gift she could think of for the Master – And finding nothing but _good_ ones.

“No, damn it,” she muttered, as she picked up a set of new, ridiculous looking leather gloves – They struck her as terribly dramatic. “He'd actually enjoy that.”

No way was she going to skip Secret Santa. As long as he believed he was going to get a gift, she was sure, he was going to get one for whoever he had drawn.

And he was a perfectionist, after all. So she just really, _really_ wanted to see his stupid face as he made one of her friends happy.

In turn, she was just going to buy him some provocatively bad rubbish.

If only she had any idea _what_.

Setting down a pair of yellow and green striped socks (either for him or herself, but she figured he'd enjoy them far too much and she wouldn't have any joy from them because they'd constantly remind her of this day), the Doctor flinched as she turned around, suddenly looking at herself.

Well, her younger self, standing in front of a shelf with little plush plastic aliens (or so the sign told her) with too big heads, giggling like a school boy.

“Look at that,” he said at no one in particular – had the old fool forgotten he was alone again? - a wide grin on his face. “They think that's alien. That'd be perfect for him, what do you reck...-”

And there it was – The grin fell right off his face, his eyes got that dramatically sad, frozen gleam they always got.   
  
Huh, so that's what it looked like from the outside.

No wonder everyone had always stared at her with so much pity in their eyes.

“Oh,” he muttered, out loud, because why wouldn't he? “No one here.”

“Not quite,” she sighed. “Hi. Hello, It's me. Remember me?”

For a second, the Doctor stared at the Doctor silently, one weary, one confused, then a little, hesitant grin showed on her younger self's face.

“Yes, yes I do. Where are your friends? Gift shopping, too?” he winked.

The Doctor furrowed her brows.

“They asked me to take them home for Christmas. Muttered something about not getting it wrong again – No idea what they were talking about.”

A little smirk tugged at his lips.

“Yeah, no idea. We're excellent drivers.”

“Clearly.” She nodded towards the green, silly alien toy in his hands. “So, who's that for? I can help, you know? You don't know my friends very well yet, but I don't think either Ryan or Graham are gonna enjoy...”

“Oh no, it's for O,” he shrugged. “I know him well enough, should work out just fine. I think he'd find it funny.”

“O?” the Doctor asked. “But... don't you think it's a bit unfair... I mean I suppose if you give it to him in secret...”

“In secret?”

They exchanged a look, the same Doctor still weary, the other still confused. Then it clicked.

“Oh. You drew O. Of course you drew O.”

Her younger self laughed.  
  
“You're alright? Busy day?”

“Yeah. Yeah that must be it.” She tried not to let the storm of annoyance get through to her voice. “My day. Busy. You. Absolutely give him that alien. That sounds wonderful. He'll love that. Maybe consider... some aspirin, too. I heard humans love being gifted aspirin. And that's what O is. Human. Not Time Lord. Aspirin kills Time Lords. Not humans. Like O. Who's human. He loves aspirin.”

“Really?” he asked, stunned. “Never heard that before. Hellish stuff, that.”

“Yes, well, Yaz told me, I had no idea before, either. Obviously. Listen. I gotta go. Find... find... something. For.... for the person I have drawn. Who is not. O.”

With a start, she was running out of the store, leaving behind her younger self, standing in the middle of it, clutching the little plush alien to his chest.

“I go a bit crazy in old age, apparently,” he muttered.

She'd been stupid. For some reason, she'd already realised how stupid she'd been and then forgotten all the other possibilities for stupidity until they had slapped her in the face.

Of course, of course he had cheated. He had been the one to prepare the drawing. Of course he would write his name down on every single note. The absolute cheek of-

Oh, oh, _oh_!

Finally!

She knew _just_ what to get him!

Merely a few hours later, she was knocking on O's – _hah_! - door, not even waiting for him to fully process her arrival as he opened his door, just bumping him to the side and storming into his hut. No, his _TARDIS_ , looking like a hut, probably for her younger self's benefit.

“Please,” he dully said to the empty door frame. “Do come in, Doctor.”

“You cheated!” she called through his living room. “You cheated in Secret Santa!”

With a laugh, the Master closed his door and followed her inside.

“Fancy a cuppa?” he said, in perfect O mocking and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“No, I don't want your stupid tea. I'm here to bring you your gift.”

She held up a big carton, bigger than her head, wrapped in horrendously green paper with a orange bow. She knew he'd hate how the colours clashed.

The Doctor walked to the nearest table, just intending to drop it off, but it was already full of gifts, most of them unopened, guarded by a little, green, plush alien – or human's weird ideas of one – leaning against them with a wide grin on the far too big head.

Her hands trembled slightly and she turned back around, pushing the gift into his arms so hard, he stumbled a step backwards.

“Just take it then,” she hissed and he looked at her with wide eyes and a frozen grin.

“Why the hell are you so angry over a stupid secret Santa?” he asked, raising the package to his face with a gleam in his eyes. “It's big.”  
  
Because she had been excited. Because she had wanted to make O happy - soft, sweet, caring O, and instead had been condemned to gift a maniac.

But every single one of these answers got stuck in her throat, so she said the next best thing instead.

“Wouldn't be too happy about it.”

He shook the gift once, then eagerly started unpacking. He didn't even comment on the awful colours of the wrapping paper. It was as if all her efforts had been for nothing. When he finally unpacked what was, essentially, a huge, cheap globe presenting the entire Earth to him, he turned around to face her with a questioning frown.

“It's so you can look at Earth whenever you want,” she spit with a nasty grin. “Because you like it so much. Unharmed and safe. You can wreck the globe, of course, that's probably the closest you'll ever get.”

For a second, he stared at her, stunned, and the Doctor was bracing herself for the onslaught of rage she knew was coming her way. Then, to her endless surprise, he started laughing. He started laughing so much, he had to set down the globe and hold his stomach, as he loudly, enthusiastically, curled up before her.

“Uhm,” the Doctor made, shocked. “Why... why are you laughing?”

“'cause it's funny!” he brought out with ragged breath, wiping away some tears of laughter. “That's even better than the stupid alien.”

“It's not supposed to be funny,” she replied dully. “It's supposed to be mean.”

“Are you kidding me?” he gave back, a giggle still caught in his voice. “It's bloody hilarious.”

He looked at her, with gleaming, brown eyes and a wide grin on his face, next to the plush alien and the globe and a bunch of unopened presents and almost felt her resolve crumble to the floor before her.

“You... you've not gotten a lot of gifts in your life, have you?”

“I... guess not? How is that relevant?”

“No, it's just...” She waved towards the table aimlessly. “They're not... they're not very good gifts.”

“But they're from _you_ ,” he laughed and the rest of her anger just melted away hopelessly.

“You didn't even open the others. They're probably good gifts. My friends give good gifts.”

“They give human gifts,” he shrugs. “It'll be something boring like books or money clips. I already have every book I want to read, Doctor. In original edition. Signed.”

“They're thoughtful gifts,” she said, grabbing the packages and pushing him towards the sofa. “Come on, we'll unwrap them together. Where's my tea, by the way?”

“Your tea?” he asked, having just sat down. “You said you didn't...”

She gave him a stern look and the Master rolled his eyes.

“On its way.”

When he returned with two steaming cups, she had pushed the gifts to the other end of the table, trying not to look at them, as she sat on her hands, letting her legs dangle impatiently.

“Never could resist a good gift,” she explained with an apologetic grin. “Best not get tempted.”  
  
“You can just open them, I don't want them,” he explained with a shrug, then added with his most charming grin, “I just wanted to make sure you'd have to gift me.”

“Nope,” she replied, raising her chin slightly. “They're yours. They picked them out for you. Put thought into it. Put love into it. For _you_. And now... _You_ open them.”

With a heavy sigh, the Master took the first present off the pile. On the side hung a note, spelling in sloppy handwriting,

  
“ _For the crap-bag calling himself the Master._

_Love, Graham”_

  
“Yes. I feel the love,” he muttered.

“Well, just open it.” She gestured towards it impatiently. “I bet it's nice, he's not a vengeful person after a...-”

The Master had tugged at the wrapping paper and out fell something... something that smelled bad enough to make her gag for a moment. When she narrowed her eyes to look at it from underneath the fingers covering her face, she recognised the dark outlines of a rotting sandwich.

“Okay, okay, how about you wrap it back up?” she brought out and the Master complied immediately, throwing it out of the window as soon as he was done, much to the Doctor's dismay.

“I'll leave you the honour,” he said, after he had washed his hands, and shoved the other two packages into her lap.

“Uhm.”

“They're thoughtful, loving gifts, after all, right?” he added with a cold smile.

The Doctor looked down at the two packages, sighed and pushed them aside. Suddenly, she felt a bit bad about the globe. It was silly. He had cheated. And put them all through hell. He deserved so much worse than smelly sandwiches.

But it was Christmas, for God's sake.

“Okay, okay, how about we... we go out and we get you...”

“Doctor,” he laughed, a hand on her arm. “Will you just believe me that I love your stupid gifts already?”

“But... but...” she looked over to the table again. “They're rubbish.”

“Of course they're rubbish. That's why I like them.”

“What?” she asked, eyebrows sinking in confusion.

“You're an absolute silly idiot with relationship issues. You're on the run your entire life, but past idiotic you, he stood in a shop for what I can only assume must've been at least two minutes, picking out this horrendous joke for me to laugh at because anything else would've been too personal. And this idiotic self,” he gently let the knuckles of his fingers brush against her cheek. “Must've thought long and hard about what to get me to absolutely ridicule me and it's _amazing_. It's rubbish that's got your name all over it. I love it.”

A little smile returned to the Doctor's lips.

“I was ridiculing you!” she announced proudly.

“See,” he grinned, shaking his head lightly, as he pulled her into his arms and for a moment, she thought about resisting, she really did, but he was comfortable and warm and in such a cheerful mood and it was, after all, Christmas. You were supposed to spend that with your best enemies. She had distinctly heard so. From reliable sources.

And so she let herself fall against his chest, the smell of sweet fruity tea slowly replacing the horrible rotten sandwich stench.

“Hey?” she asked after a while and he hummed contently. “Did you get anything for anyone?”

And the Master laughed.

“Oh yeah, I got myself a wonderful little Doctor for Christmas,” he kissed her head. “Oh. And some brilliant yellow-green striped socks.”


End file.
